The 8th of March was a busy day for Hill. As the practical man of the combine he had to manufacture a new spook-board (the old one had to be left behind in the camp) and also a semaphore apparatus, for we had arranged (should occasion arise) to signal to Matthews, who lived across the way in Posh Castle. While Hill worked I submitted for his criticism various plans by which our aims might be attained. Next day the Pimple came in and sat chatting for a couple of hours. He told us that after his effort at the trial the Commandant had suffered from a bad go of nerves, and had lain awake all night wondering what Constantinople would say, and what Colonel Maule would write in his next sealed letter to headquarters. Kiazim’s one ambition in life now was to get out of the treasure-hunt and send us mediums back to the camp. But he could not risk his own prestige by doing so.
“Pah!” said the Pimple, “he is—what you call it?—très poltron!”
“I don’t know German,” said I.
“That is French,” the Pimple explained gravely. “It means what you call ‘windy beggar.‘”
This sort of thing would never do! We held a séance. The Spook began at once to fan Kiazim’s waning courage. It pointed out that the task of the mediums was to get thoroughly in tune one with another, but that this was quite impossible so long as the Commandant created cross-currents of thought-waves by worrying. The Commandant, the Pimple, the Cook, and the two mediums—all, in fact, who were concerned to find the treasure—must remain tranquil in mind or success would be impossible. Let their trust in the Spook be absolute, and all would be easy. Was not the Unseen working for us night and day? Whence came Gilchrist’s pæan of praise for the verdict? Surely the Commandant recognized that it had been put into his mouth by the Spirit to act as a bar to any further protest about the conviction? Thus had Gilchrist been firmly committed as a supporter of the Commandant’s view. And so with Colonel Maule. The Spook was pained at the Commandant’s fear of Maule: for was not Maule’s mind already under control? Did Kiazim imagine that the Spook was idle except at séances? Why, Maule’s head had been carefully filled with ideas by the Unseen Power: he was a plaything in the Spook’s hands. It had been an easy matter to put him in the same boat as Kiazim, to get him to stop all “spooking” in the camp,[[22]] to make him place Hill and Jones on parole not to telepathize or escape from Yozgad.
Here the Pimple interrupted the séance.
“Did you two give paroles to Colonel Maule?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, affecting surprise. “How on earth do you know? Did Maule tell you?”
“The glass has just written it,” said Moïse triumphantly; “from the Spirit nothing is hidden.” (Then to the Spook): “Go on, sir.”
The Spook went on. As a final, though quite unnecessary, protection for the Commandant, it promised to control the mediums (Hill and myself) to write letters to England in praise of their new quarters. If the mediums did not complain of their treatment nobody else could do so with any effect. Let these letters be copied and sent through without delay in the censoring, that they might counteract any chance complaint from the camp which escaped the notice of the Spook.